


for good

by zayheathers



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, Gen, Modern AU, also kristoff and honeymaren share respecting women juice before every meal, honeymaren just really loves her girlfriend you guys, there's like a lot of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21646462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zayheathers/pseuds/zayheathers
Summary: A family gathering—complete with politics, a traditionalist grandfather, a girlfriend, and an engaged sister. What could go wrong?OR: A character study exploring Honeymaren's relationships with each member of Elsa's family.
Relationships: Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 254





	for good

**Author's Note:**

> So, for this work, I had the most difficulty translating Olaf and Sven into a modern world, but I ended up making them a young boy and a dog, respectively. I sincerely apologise if that wasn't ideal for you. (Also T for a very brief mention of sex.)

“Quick question,” Elsa whispers from the corner of her mouth during the pre-wedding practice dinner, “what is _Hans_ doing here?”

  
  
  


Her sister, who is sitting on her left, trying to eat her soup with as little spoon-clinking as possible, hisses back, “You think I _wanted_ to invite my crazy ex-boyfriend? Father made me invite him—apparently we’re good friends with his parents, and they think this’ll be a good influence. Like that’s gonna happen.”

  
  
  


Elsa snorts, and from the head of the table, their father shoots them a look. _“Sorry,”_ she mouths, and her father, trying not to smile back, nods and continues whatever conversation he had been engaged in. Elsa hadn’t really been paying attention—she was much more focused on the fingers tracing her knuckles.

  
  
  


Two months ago, Anna and Kristoff had put in motion the plans for their wedding, and had set the date to be a month from now. They’d invited their closest friends, of course, but being the next in line for the throne meant the guest list had to be expanded a little—to the chagrin of both bride and groom-to-be.

  
  
  


Thus, the inviting of Hans.

  
  
  


“What are we whispering about?” Honeymaren asks from Elsa’s other side, loud enough for both Elsa and Anna to hear, and the redhead in question shoots her a playful smirk. After Elsa abdicated the throne about a year ago the two of them started dating, and Elsa honestly thinks no one else can complete her as well as Honeymaren. (Plus the sex is mind-blowing, so that’s a huge plus.)

  
  
  


“Hans,” Anna says, and looks like she’s about to say more when someone calls her name, no doubt to talk about the _actual_ wedding. 

  
  
  


“Ah.” Honeymaren answers, always the strong, silent type (or at least, she’s been told several times during this whole wedding affair by _multiple_ distant family members.) “Understandable. What _is_ he doing here anyway? Scheming yet another failed plan?” Elsa’s fingers fly to her mouth to hide her giggle.

  
  
  


“Apparently,” she says, lowering her head to Honeymaren’s (ridiculously strong yet comfortable) shoulder, whispering into her ear, “Father forced Anna to invite him because, well… politics. If we fall out of favour with his parents then who knows what’ll happen with the trade in Arendelle. But we both know that’s not very likely. Father just likes to cover all his bases.”

  
  
  


“Ah.” Honeymaren says again, turning her head so the side of her forehead leans against Elsa’s. “How is the roast beef?” At Elsa’s completely confused look, she continues with a grin, “Well, we _are_ here to test the food, might as well do what is expected. Though,” she teases, “as I remember, you are not so good with that.”

  
  
  


Elsa gives a smile in return, her cheeks heating a little, which she finds is a constant whenever her girlfriend is around. “You’re cute,” she says, sticking out her tongue, because it’s true at any given moment in time, “but yes I have. It’s good.” Picking off a piece with her fork, she asks, “Want to try some?” Honeymaren nods and Elsa feeds her, bringing them closer together.

  
  
  


“So, Elsa,” a voice purrs from across the table, prompting their attention forwards. The voice belongs to one Aunt Estrid, her father’s cousin very much known for sticking her nose into places it most definitely does not belong, and Elsa braces herself for whatever is coming, “have you started thinking about marriage with this girl of yours?” 

  
  
  


She chokes on the air, and Honeymaren has to rub her back so she can breathe properly. That had certainly _not_ been expected. “I don’t… well I—we haven’t really…” Collecting herself as any ex-next-queen-in-line would do, she clears her throat and says, “No, Aunt Estrid, we have not had this conversation yet.”

  
  
  


“And I should hope not,” yet another voice says, and Elsa looks to the left to find it is her grandfather that is speaking. Oh no. “I have been understanding up until this point of your… misconception—anomaly even—but I will not let you kid yourself into a sham marriage with a _woman_ —of such low stature, no less. I will not accept this from you, especially after your disgraceful abdication.”

  
  
  


With every word that comes out of her grandfather’s mouth, Honeymaren watches as Elsa becomes much less the self-confident and strong person she knows it to be to a meek, small shadow of herself. Honeymaren knows that Elsa would not react like this to anyone else, but her grandfather has always been able to hurt her where it stings the most. 

  
  
  


Looking around, Honeymaren realises that no-one is going to stop the former king of Arendelle mid rant—their heads down in fear or anger—and that Iduna and Agnarr have left to discuss something with the chefs, and she stands. “Do not call my love for Elsa a sham or a misconception. It is real, as real as your fear. I love your granddaughter, more than anything, and if marriage is the next step for us, I know that we have many people to support us. Who love their family more than they rely on tradition. More than they fear change.”

  
  
  


“I do not fear anything, _girl_ , so do not—”

  
  
  


“Yes, you do, grandfather!” Elsa says, finding her voice and standing up just as Honeymaren had unconsciously done before, and out of the corner of her eye, she sees both Anna and Olaf flinch. “You fear what will happen if you no longer hold all the power, if the world changes so fast you can’t keep up, and I for one won’t let _your_ fear rule me.” Turning around, she finds her sister’s eyes apologetically, “I’m sorry… It’s late, we should go. Goodnight everyone.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Later, when both Honeymaren and Elsa have readied for bed—Honeymaren in a beige nightshirt and matching leggings, and Elsa in her usual purple nightgown—they hear a knock at the door.

  
  
  


“That’d better not be Grandfather,” Elsa says from where she sits by the window, drinking tea and reading a book. Honeymaren knows by now that this is her routine to calm herself down.

  
  
  


“Don’t worry,” Honeymaren answers from where she sits by Elsa, watching her drink tea and read a book, “I’ll get it. If it _is_ him, I’ll tell him we would prefer not to talk to him.”

  
  
  


The people at the door, however, are not her grandfather, and Honeymaren finds herself looking into the identical worried eyes of Elsa’s mother and sister. “How is she?” Anna immediately asks, frantic and anxious, “I’m so sorry about what happened, I shouldn’t have let him say that or even come to the dinner and—”

  
  
  


“Anna,” Iduna says, calm as always, and takes her youngest daughter’s hand, “It’s not your fault. No one blames you, alright?” Anna nods, but both her mother and Honeymaren can tell that she isn’t settled. “Now, how is Elsa, Honeymaren, and by extension, how are you?”

  
  
  


“She’s alright. Calming down now, but I know she would love to see you…”

  
  
  


“And you?”

  
  
  


“I think Elsa’s feelings are more important than mine, presently,” she says, and Iduna gives her a look that tells her that she won’t accept that answer, but will continue the conversation at a later date. “Uh, come in.”

  
  
  


Anna rushes past her to find her sister, and Iduna follows at a slower pace. The three of them find Elsa sitting serenely sipping her tea, and Honeymaren cannot help but think that she looks so beautiful in the light.

  
  
  


“Sweetheart?” Honeymaren calls, and Elsa looks up, her face instantly relaxing when her eyes land on her mother and sister. Kneeling by the armchair her girlfriend sits in, she asks, “Would you like me to stay or go?”

  
  
  


“Can you…?” Elsa says, unable to finish the sentence because it makes her guilty and neglectful in some way.

  
  
  


“Of course.” Honeymaren says, trying to communicate to her girlfriend she has no need to feel any guilt. As she stands up, she plants a loving kiss on Elsa’s forehead, knowing that what Elsa at this moment is the familiar comfort of her mother and sister, not her lover. “I love you, angel.”

  
  
  


The smile she gets in return is soft enough to thaw any frozen heart. “I love you too, honey.” And with that, Honeymaren bids the three of them goodbye.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“So…” Kristoff says when she joins him for some nightly tea. He is awkward, but Honeymaren knows he cares in his own way. His heart is big, and it loves easily, something that makes him so charming. “Uhm… How’re you doing?”

  
  
  


“Good,” she says as she sits down across from him at the small table in the kitchen. It’s been a while since she’s known about his nightly routine of drinking tea with his fiance every night on the small, cosy kitchen diner. She suspects it’s because Kristoff gets overwhelmed by palace life occasionally, needing to take a breather now and then. Honeymaren can’t say she blames him. In Northuldra, they lived quiet, simple lives.

  
  
  


“Sven thinks you’re lying,” he says, patting the Broholmer’s brown head. Sven lifts his head and rests it on Honeymaren’s lap instead, offering her silent comfort. “ _There’s nothing wrong with not being okay,_ ” Kristoff says in Sven’s voice, and she smiles. 

  
  
  


“Thanks Sven, but I really am okay. Just still a little angry.”

  
  
  


“ _Why?_ ”

  
  
  


“Just at Elsa’s grandfather. He was rude and unkind, and yet he won’t face any major punishment. I don’t think he should be physically punished, of course, but I just think he should face some sort of repercussions for what he said. Or at least what he implied.” Both Kristoff and Sven nod at what she says, and Honeymaren can’t help but feel a little better after letting off some steam.

  
  
  


“I get that. He wasn’t exactly happy with Anna for marrying a commoner either, not that that’s the same thing, but he’s gonna have to get over it because we won’t change for him. Right?”

  
  
  


“Right.”

  
  
  


“And we aren’t going anywhere, right?”

  
  
  


“Right.”

  
  
  


They stay silent for a while, in quiet understanding, but then… “Don’t let her push you away.”

  
  
  


“What?” Honeymaren is confused, and for a second doesn’t know what he is referring to, but then she realises. 

  
  
  


“Elsa,” he clarifies, “she pushes people away. Not that that’s a bad thing—well it _is_ a bad thing, but not in that way, just that—” Sven interrupts him with a bark, “—right, I should stop. I just was trying to say I noticed she tries to get people to stop caring about her, so they won’t get scared away. So don’t let her push you away. She needs you right now. But not in the way that you think. She needs you to be honest about your _own_ feelings.” He laughs. “Trust me, I’ve been there. We're lost in the woods without 'em.” 

  
  
  


She smiles and nods, moved by all that he said. Underneath all the holes he digs himself, she can acknowledge that he is quite a wise man. “Thank you, Kristoff, I needed that.” Looking at Sven, she says, “and I hope that didn’t scare you, my friend.” Wait, that reminds her. “I’m going to go talk to Olaf, I think he’s in need of someone to talk to, as well. Thank you both, again. I will see you tomorrow.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


When she arrives at Olaf’s bedroom, she would assume that he is already asleep if she didn’t know him well, but she can see him peeking out of the corner of the blanket. In the past year, she’s gotten to understand him more, and knows there is something bothering him when he hides under his comforter. She had heard all about Olaf's story from Elsa and Anna, about how five years ago, Olaf had been welcomed into the family with open arms.

  
  
  


“Did you know,” Olaf starts as she walks towards the bed, voice muffled by the pillow, but even then she can tell he's distressed, “that certain fears are universal across cultures? In childhood, people have fears like separation and strangers, and then later objects. But adults have more abstract fears? Like change?”

  
  
  


“No, I did not know that,” she answers as she sits herself on the edge of his soft, white bed. “How did you find that out?” And even though she asks that partially as a way to coax him out of his shell, she also is genuinely curious. Sometimes, he knows things and she does not know where the information came from.

  
  
  


“Uhm… I read it in a book somewhere? At least, I think it was a book.” Finally, he comes out of the cocoon he built himself and looks Honeymaren in the eye, much more reserved than he usually is. 

  
  
  


Honeymaren smiles softly down at him, messing up his hair a little with her hand. “Were you scared today, Olaf?” 

  
  
  


“Yeah,” he admits, coming to sit beside her and cuddling close (as Elsa would fondly say), “a little bit. I just… don’t like all the shouting and angry-ness, you know? I don’t like it when we fight with each other.”

  
  
  


“I know,” she says and taps his tall nose, “but sometimes there is nothing that can be done about it. Sometimes people will not agree, and that leads to anger and fighting. Sometimes our conflicts come from the simplest of misunderstandings.” Taking a deep breath, she continues. “ _But_ … as long as we remember that we are _all_ human and we make mistakes and are capable of change, then conflict can be solved. Wrongs can be righted. Relationships can be fixed. All we need to do is remember.”

  
  
  


“That’s very wise of you, Honeymaren.” Olaf smiles and rocks backwards on his back, holding his feet and says, “When I’m older like you, do you think I’ll be wise?”

  
  
  


“I think that is up to you, little snowman.”

  
  


* * *

On her way back to the room, Honeymaren can’t help but mull over what happened, thinking so deeply, it seems, that she almost runs over an ageing blonde man with familiar piercing blue eyes. "I'm sorry, sir," she immediately apologises, not wanting to give the king any reason to be upset at her, but as she looks into his eyes she finds no trace of anger.

  
  
  


Instead she finds him smiling. “There’s no need to apologise, Honeymaren. And please, how many times have I told you to call me Agnarr. You’re practically family.” Silently, he motions for her to begin walking with him.

  
  
  


“Oh. Of course… Agnarr.”

  
  
  


He simply smiles at her again, though, like all his smiles, it is quick and short-lived. Quickly, his expression falls serious, deep lines framing his eyes and mouth. “Anna told me what happened today. I am quite thankful for you, you know. That you would so unthinkingly defend Elsa with no thought of consequence. Such a quality is one I admire, to move with your heart so easily.” Agnarr gives a bare, dry chuckle, one that is mostly breath. “Something I have trouble with, clearly.”

  
  
  


“Well, sir, thinking with your head keeps you out of trouble.”

  
  
  


He laughs again, and Honeymaren thinks his smile makes him so strikingly similar to his daughter. They laugh as if it surprises them, trying to restrain their laughter at the last minute. “That may be so, but it can leave you inaccessible to your people.”

  
  
  


“But if you’re a good leader, they will respect you anyway.”

  
  
  


Nodding at her, Agnarr says, “You’re right… I would like to make clear that my father should not have spoken like that, but I _also_ would like to make clear I will not issue any apologies for him. So, if you both prefer to avoid the him until he apologises, I understand, but my father must learn to face his consequences alone.”

  
  
  


Honeymaren shakes her head, “That would be unfair to Anna, to add tension to her wedding. And Elsa—she would never do that to her sister’s wedding. And _I_ understand that it isn’t possible for you not to invite him, given the political scene. I will attend unless Elsa wishes me not to, then I won’t.” Their short walk has brought them to Honeymaren and Elsa’s room, and she can’t help but feel both relieved and strangely regretful their time has ended so soon.

  
  
  


“Spoken like a diplomat. And with such loyalty. You know, if things were different, I would very much have enjoyed your presence in my cabinet.”

  
  
  


“And if you had asked, I would have refused." Realising how that may have sounded, she quickly adds, "W-with all due respect, sir,” she says, making him chuckle and shake his head again.

  
  
  


“Agnarr, please.”

  
  
  


“Agnarr.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Walking into their room, Honeymaren finds Elsa lying on her side of the bed facing the window and instantly goes to her. While she knows, most likely, nothing is wrong, she can’t help but worry. “Angel? Is something wrong?”

  
  
  


Turning slowly, Elsa meets her eyes with a tender smile. “I’m okay,” she says, pushing her body up so she leans against the headboard. Her voice is low and dry, and Honeymaren can tell she has been crying. Although, she also knows her mother wouldn't leave Elsa without knowing she was okay, so she breathes a sigh of relief. “Just a little sleepy. But what about you?”

  
  
  


Honeymaren furrows her brows, confused. “What about me?” She asks, joining her lover on the right side of the bed, immediately pulling her into a warm embrace.

  
  
  


“Well,” Elsa says, turning her head to meet her gaze, “I’ve been neglecting your feelings.” Honeymaren shakes her head, ready to deny but she continues. “I have. I’ve been acting like I’m the only one who was hurt in this—I dived so deep into my head I forgot about everyone else, including you. And I’m sorry. You’ve been supporting me and loving me, and I’ve been wallowing in my own self-pity because I forgot that you’re here with me.”

  
  
  


“Elsa, it’s alright—”

  
  
  


“No, it’s not. So here I am, asking you: how are _you_ , Honey?” Before Honeymaren can answer, she covers her lips with a finger and quickly says, “And be a-hundred-percent honest with me, alright?”

  
  
  


Kissing her softly, Honeymaren smiles. “You know I love you?”

  
  
  


“I know,” Elsa says, laughing softly. “Now stop stalling and tell me!”

  
  
  


“Okay, okay… Initially, I was mad. At your grandfather, because of what he said, but also at myself because I couldn’t keep a hold of my temper. I shouted at someone who loves you—no matter what he said, that still remains to be the truth—and potentially jeopardised your relationship with them.”

  
  
  


“Honey, that wouldn’t be your fault.”

  
  
  


The brunette nods, but continues speaking, “I was also mad at the world. At how it has developed in a way that your grandfather thinks that way at all, it’s stupid and ridiculous and unfair. Why should he feel comfortable expressing explicit hate while we had to hide our relationship for the first few months? Why should we have to accommodate the ease of their lives while it hinders ours?”

  
  
  


Elsa sighs, about to say something, but Honeymaren interrupts. “But I know, that’s just the way it is. The way it has been. And I’ve been irrationally angry, even at you, and I was insecure about us. But I see now you weren’t pushing me away because you’re ashamed of us, or me, but because _I’ve_ been letting you push me away. I’d be lost in all kinds of woods without you.”

  
  
  


To Honeymaren’s surprise, Elsa laughs. “You’ve been talking to Kristoff, haven’t you?”

  
  
  


She smiles, “How did you know?”

  
  
  


“Well, he uses all sorts of forest metaphors.”

  
  
  


Honeymaren pulls her love closer, kissing the top of her pale forehead. “It doesn’t make it any less true. My life has no direction without you.”

  
  
  


“Good,” Elsa says, bringing their lips together for a proper kiss, “because the feeling is entirely mutual.”

  
  
  


“I guess we’re stuck together then,” Honeymaren says, laughing, “Forever.”

  
  
  


Elsa shakes her head. “No, for good.”

**Author's Note:**

> I got ridiculously lazy towards the end and I apologise. Also I wrote this at like 12AM. As always, kudos and comments are loved and appreciated, but never mandatory <3


End file.
